A Bride at Last

by Melissa Jagears

  Silas lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not going to chase him?”

  “I’m not sure leaving you in the dust is a ladylike thing to do.”

  “Oh, I thought you weren’t giving chase because you can’t actually beat him.”

  Well, she’d show him. After one quick glance back to let him know she’d taken the dare, she picked up her skirts and took off.

  Anthony had skidded to a stop on the rocky bank before she caught up, but she’d gotten close. She ruffled his hair and looked over her shoulder expecting Silas to be making his way toward the water, but he was still at the wagon, lifting out what must have been their supper in a basket.

  “Do we have to eat now or can I start looking for snakes?” Anthony danced around as if he couldn’t possibly sit.

  “I’m not sure what Mr. Jonesey wants to do, but I’m sure you can stop playing the moment we tell you to, right?” She gave him her teacher glare, the one that said she expected immediate obedience.

  “Sure.” He dropped onto the rocks and reached for his laces.

  She frowned at the state of his shoes. The leather and sole at his right heel had separated, and both toes were so scuffed that a hole would appear any day.

  “What do you think about setting up here?” Silas stood under a tree just starting to turn light yellow, the basket in one hand and a blanket draped over his arm. The sun filtering through the leaves played across his face. Scruff along his jaw had turned from a thick shadow into a full beard this past week.

  Though he’d asked her a question, his eyes were fastened behind her on Anthony, who was hooting after plunging his bare feet into the cold water.

  The half smile on Silas’s face made her heart trip. He might not have known the boy long enough to truly love him, but that expression was miles closer to love than the way Richard looked at him.

  Or even how Lucinda had looked at him.

  How would it feel if Silas looked at her like that?

  No, a man as handsome as Silas wouldn’t waste his time on her. Though quite a few years older than her, with a face like his, he could scoop up any young woman he desired. Certainly a woman with a fresher face and a more compliant disposition would snag his attention. He needn’t turn such a gaze onto a twenty-five-year-old spinster.

  Why did she care anyway? He’d not be around much longer to look at her in any manner.

  “I think that’s fine.” She picked her way over to the spot he’d chosen. “Do you want to eat now? I thought we could let Anthony play awhile.”

  “Aren’t you going to get in with him?”

  “Me?” She frowned. “It’s not exactly appropriate for me to wade.”

  “Didn’t stop you from running just now . . . and losing.”

  She scrunched up her face. If she’d known him better, she’d probably have picked up something soft to throw at him. “He had a huge lead.”

  “It put a flush in your cheeks.”

  She brushed away the hair that had fallen from her sloppy bun. “Red faced and sweaty. My sister always did tell me running made me look terrible.”

  Silas’s mouth twitched. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  What would you say? She pressed her lips together to keep from asking, and he turned to flick out the blanket.

  “He’s not going to be around much longer. He won’t remember you took your stockings off, but he will remember you played with him in the water.” Silas set the basket of food on top of the smoothed-down blanket.

  She hadn’t so much been put off by the idea of being stocking-less, but more so by the hooting Anthony was doing because of the cold water. Of course, that didn’t sound like a good excuse now.

  And where did all this child-rearing wisdom come from? “I suppose you had good memories like this from your childhood?”

  “No.”

  His dejected tone made her look back at him. Once again, he wasn’t looking at her but rather at something distant.

  “No good memories at all?”

  “I’m an orphan.”

  “Well, so am I.” And she certainly had her share of bad memories because of it. “But I still remember a few things about my parents. Father letting me play with his hunting dog’s pups. Mother singing with me while I attempted to help her wash dishes.”

  “My only memory of my mother is of her sending me into the orphanage.”

  Wait. “Your mother is still alive?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged and rolled up his sleeves. “But sending me away without a tear on her face was enough for me to know she didn’t want me.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Five, I think.”

  “That’s pretty young. Why didn’t someone adopt you?”

  He nodded his head, but the look on his face definitely wasn’t good. “The first couple, the Lewards, were impossible to please. They returned me as if I were nothing more than a rotten piece of meat they’d mistakenly purchased from the marketplace. The second couple, the Miltons, never took me back to the orphanage, though I couldn’t please them either. They were content to take strips from my hide.”

  What was she supposed to say to that? “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged and then unlaced his boots. “Richard was right. A childhood without good memories is a terrible thing. So maybe I want to splash in the water as much as I want Anthony to do so. Might be the last good memory for the both of us.”

  “How could it be your last one?”

  “Lucy was my wife for only seven months. She left me without any way of knowing whether I was a widower or not, and so I was stuck without a family.” He pried off a boot and placed it beside the other. “I’d like to believe Anthony’s mine, but considering Lucy’s journals and the way she’s lied to us all about different things . . .”

  “But even without Anthony, you know for certain she’s dead now.” Probably not entirely couth to bring up how someone’s death was a good thing. “You can get married again.”

  He stopped pulling off his sock and blinked out over the water. “You’d think I’d have thought of that already. After years of believing I’d forever be alone, I guess I’d just accepted that as my fate.” He looked at her, and all of a sudden the intensity in his gaze made her drop hers.

  She swallowed. She was imagining the intensity—she had to be. Lowering herself as primly as possible, she stuck her boots out just past her skirts and stared at the row of buttons.

  “Come on—off with them. You won’t see us after Monday, so you won’t be embarrassed in our presence, knowing we’ve seen your toes.”

  “I’d rather be embarrassed than have Anthony leave so soon.” She sniffed and worked on her boots. “You really think the judge will side against you?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He seemed too cavalier. “But don’t you want Anthony?”

  “That’s all I’ve been praying for, but . . . maybe I’m not praying hard enough. I’m afraid to want him too much. I wanted a family so badly once I . . . well, I married in haste and was left lonelier than ever.” He stood. “Anthony coming home with me could cure that loneliness, but if he doesn’t, and I’d hoped for it, I’m not sure I could stand the quiet again.” He rolled up his trousers. “No, sometimes it’s better to be surprised than face such disappointment.”

  His open palm appeared beside her. She couldn’t help but squeeze his hand as she moved to stand. How could she insist he fight harder for Anthony, knowing the law might not see what she saw?

  “Did no one ever . . . care for you?” Somehow she doubted Lucinda had been the most loving wife during their short marriage.

  “Like you do Anthony?” He let go of her hand and smiled out at the boy, who was creating a round well with a wall of rocks in the middle of the water. “No, but a janitor at the orphanage was kind to me. He didn’t offer to take me home and call me son or anything. . . . A black man adopting a white child would’ve caused too many problems. But he was the closest thing to a father I ever knew.”

&nb
sp; “Hey! Come look what I found!” Anthony waved at them.

  He headed for the water. “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

  Gingerly she crept across the sun-bleached rocks to the water’s edge. How was Silas walking across the stones so quickly?

  Hissing the second the water hit her toes, she was about to use her skirts as an excuse to stay on the bank when Anthony looked up, eyes alight. “Come on, Miss Dawson!”

  Steeling herself, she gathered her skirts and stepped out onto the brown, rounded rocks in the water. After submerging her feet to her ankles, she stopped to get used to the cold.

  “Anthony, it looks like all you have to do to win a race against Miss Dawson is throw cold water on her feet.” Silas laughed, already standing beside Anthony, who stood waiting with his hands against his scrawny hips.

  “You also aren’t dealing with a dress.” She slid a foot across a slimy rock. “Not sure how I’m going to keep my balance when my hands are needed to keep my dress dry.”

  “Can’t you tie your skirt around you or something?”

  She gave Anthony a look to let him know he was crazy.

  “Don’t girls climb trees?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  At Silas’s raised eyebrows and Anthony’s frown, she quit making excuses. “All right,” she grumbled. She turned around, pulled her skirts between her legs, and wrapped them around the way she’d done when she was a little girl—and hadn’t done since. Thicker winter clothing was not at all good for this.

  Once she had a good knot about her waist, she exhaled until her cheeks had cooled enough she wouldn’t need to dunk her face in the water to approach the two of them without a face-staining blush.

  Anthony giggled the second she turned around. “It looks like you’re wearing a diaper.”

  And now she really wished she could stick her head in the ice-cold water. “I don’t believe you could’ve said anything more mortifying to me.”

  “Hush now, Anthony. Don’t make her feel any sillier than she looks.” Silas’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “She won’t come and see what you caught if you embarrass her.”

  “Come on, Miss Dawson—before he gets away!”

  She closed her eyes and slipped her feet across the rocks. “Why are the stones so slick?”

  “I don’t think you want to know that.” Silas really did laugh this time. “Don’t think about it.”

  Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. Ugh. “Too late. I figured it out.”

  “Don’t let that keep you from coming.” Silas’s voice held a note of concern.

  No, she wouldn’t keep from giving Anthony this memory because of slime. On her bare feet. Waddling through ice-cold water with her skirts gathered up like a diaper.

  “Why couldn’t he have chosen to take the boy fishing?” she muttered under her breath.

  Forcing herself to look up, she picked her way out to Anthony’s little stone circle in the water.

  He stooped down the second she reached him. “He’s under this rock. Watch.” When he lifted a rock from inside his haphazard wall, a flash of brown flickered in the water and disappeared.

  “I didn’t see it.” She moved closer, slipping a little.

  “It’s a huge crawdad.” Anthony swished his hand around, and the creature moved.

  She leaned down trying to see where it’d gone, but it blended in with the rocks somewhere.

  “Maybe I can catch it.” Anthony plunged his hands in, and the creature scurried between the rock wall and straight for her foot.

  She hopped to the side, and a rock teetered. “It has huge pincers!”

  Silas grabbed her arm. “Careful, he’s not worth a tumble in the water. He won’t hurt you.”

  “How do you know? Have you ever been pinched by one?”

  “No, but they’re awfully small.”

  “Not so sure size matters—snake fangs are awfully small.”

  He chuckled. “Point taken. But I still don’t think it’d be that bad.”

  “Well, I don’t want to find out.” The crawdad scurried under a rock.

  “Come over here and look!” Anthony called.

  How had he gotten three feet away in a blink of an eye?

  “What do you see?” She grimaced at the thought of clambering after him, especially since he’d gone through a deeper section to get to whatever he was pointing at.

  “A ton of fish!”

  Well, she’d seen fish before. Surely she didn’t need to see them again.

  “You’re thinking of not going, aren’t you?” Silas held out his hands. “I could carry you.”

  “On slippery rocks? We’d both end up in the water.”

  “A hand?” He held out one of his.

  And she wanted to put her hand there. And not exactly because she was afraid of slipping. “All right.”

  She shook her head. What was she doing?

  He enfolded her hand and the tension in his arm did indeed make her feel steadier than she had since she first stepped off the bank. Together they made it to the edge of a drop-off in the water where myriad fish swam in darting lines. “What are they?”

  “Not sure.” Silas shrugged.

  Did he realize he was still holding her hand?

  Anthony grabbed up a rock and threw it into the pool, making the fish rapidly change course. “Hey, come look at this.”

  Without bothering to protest, Kate let Silas walk her closer to the edge. “What am I supposed to be looking at? Please don’t tell me a snake. I don’t mind one in a box, but darting between my feet on slippery rocks . . .” A shudder took over her body and seemed to find its way over to Silas.

  “No, look at all the babies.”

  She pressed forward, teetering on an uneven rock. A mass of minnows flickered right below the ledge where Anthony was systematically kicking rocks off with his toes.

  “Why don’t you stop destroying the wall we’re standing on?” She put her foot on another rock that looked more stable, but it teetered as well.

  Anthony picked up a flat rock the size of her hand. “I wonder if I can skip this one?” He chucked it, but it only made a resounding glug in the water, sending the fish back out in rays.

  “Whoops!” She slid a bit but finally got planted.

  They selected rocks from around their feet and competed against each other, Silas winning with five skips before her feet grew numb. “I’m getting hungry now.”

  “Oh, all right.” Anthony whimpered, turned, and just about went face-first into the water.

  Silas caught him. “Be careful there, kid. We don’t have dry clothes for you if you take a dive.”

  Anthony stuck out his arms and walked through the deeper trench.

  Silas turned back for her. “Let me help you.”

  “Thanks.” She grabbed his hand but forgot about the teetering rock and almost plunged in herself.

  Silas’s arm clamped across her torso and righted her. “I don’t have any dry clothes for you either.”

  Just the thought of him bringing her a set of dry clothing made her blush. “I shouldn’t have come out here.”

  “Oh no, don’t think that way. He had a better time with you here than if you’d sat on the bank.” He kept ahold of her hand to keep her in her place and navigated the dip himself before turning. “Let me lift you across.”

  She glanced at his feet buried in the rocks. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He pivoted his feet down deeper. “I’m not going to fall.”

  She put out her hands, but instead of taking them, he grabbed her under her shoulders and lifted her as if she weighed as little as one of the fish that had nipped at her toes. He set her down next to him, but his hands didn’t drop.

  Inches from his chest, she stared up at him.

  “Thank you.” Silas’s voice sounded shakier than normal, or maybe it was the sound of the rushing water around them.

  “For what?”

  “I know you weren’t exactly th
rilled, but if you’d chosen to come out for me despite the slimy rocks, you’d have made my day, so I’m sure you made Anthony’s.”

  Did he mean she’d have made his day when he was younger . . . or now? “I wish we had time to come with him again.”

  Silas smiled and let go of her with one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. A clatter of rocks drew their attention across the creek.

  Up on the embankment, Richard’s menacing glare stayed intact despite his needing to grab a tree limb to keep him from slipping farther down the earthen wall.

  The cold water around her ankles did little to cool the flushing heat spreading through her body. They weren’t doing anything wrong, but for some reason, she wasn’t sure Richard would agree.

  Chapter 6

  Kate glanced about the crowded sanctuary. Would Mr. Kingfisher fire her right now in front of everyone? She’d approached him to ask for time off tomorrow to go to court with Anthony, but now . . .

  “Mr. Fitzgerald’s accusations are more than enough to merit your suspension at the very least.” Mr. Kingfisher shook his head, his brows heavy with irritation. “There’s no good reason for you to have been in Mr. Jonesey’s arms, improperly dressed.”

  She wouldn’t let Richard get her fired. “Mr. Fitzgerald has skewed the entire incident. He’s intent on taking Anthony, so he’s trying to make the situation sound as bad as possible in an attempt to make Silas seem unfit. I told you, I was wading in the creek with Anthony, and Silas was helping me cross a trench.”

  Mr. Zahn, a board member standing next to Mr. Kingfisher, shrugged. “She did meet expectations before this orphan stuff came up, Bob. One tumble in the creek doesn’t negate that.”

  She gritted her teeth. Orphan stuff. To them, Anthony was nothing but a bothersome detail. She glanced at the rows of chairs where the congregants mingled before heading home. Anthony was talking to a friend in the corner by the organ.

  Both Silas and Richard hovered not far from him.

  “This year’s already started.” The voice of one of the ladies on the board quietly broke into the men’s debate. “Is letting her go worth the time we’d waste locating a replacement?”